A Final Entry
by SpinningStars
Summary: This is John's final blog entry after Sherlock's "death." Nope, I don't own anything. Note: toward the end of John's entry, the bit in quotations is taken directly from the book by Sir Author Conan Doyle. I did not write that :D


**Sherlock Holmes was on the verge.**

**There I found myself in the position of talking my best friend out of doing the unthinkable. And I couldn't think of hardly a thing to say. I couldn't make sense of anything.**

"**Goodbye, John." Collected now, no longer crying.**

"**No—" I heard my voice break and I shifted on my feet, excruciatingly helpless. Our connection beeped out.**_**No…**_

**Sherlock tossed the phone behind him, teetering backward on the ledge for several despairing moments. Then, before my eyes, he plummeted forth. "SHERLOCK!" I watched him fall, mouthing his name once more.**

**A sickening thud stopped my heart. The world, the world I had been opened up to by one man, the world which belongs solely to Sherlock Holmes, became a blur. There seemed to be nothing left of it, everything torn away, just like my heart. No sound—for honestly, there must have been nothing left in the world except Sherlock lying facedown in the pavement.**

**I began making my way toward him, but I couldn't feel my own feet. The whirring of a bicyclist pierced the silence. It hit me, knocking me to the ground, and jolting me.**

**My ears rang. I picked myself up and marched again in the direction of my friend. There were people suddenly, gathering around him. Blocking him from me. I hadn't the breath to call to him, muttering his name over and over.**

**My hands were like lead as I pushed my way through the crowd. "I'm a doctor," I managed, "let me come through. Let me come through, please…" I couldn't tear my eyes away from Sherlock, fighting the arms that reached out to stop me with all I could muster. "He's my friend…**_**he's my friend**_**…"**

**Dropping to my knees, I felt for a pulse. My heart sank, and the strength went out of me. The arms pulled me back, supported me. I protested, but could not resist. More people moved in. They rolled Sherlock's body over, dark curly hair plastered with blood across his face, cheekbones and all. Lifeless eyes, staring.**_**"Jesus…Oh, God, oh God…"**_

**The people wheeled him away then, just rolled him away.**

**Heaving, I backed away and watched Sherlock disappear from my sight.**

**Less than an hour later, Mycroft, Inspector Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and I were called in to identify the body.**

**Less than a half an hour later, all four of us stood in the dim light of the morgue, staring at face of Sherlock Holmes, unmoving on a cold slab. Mycroft was as impassive as ever; Lestrade swallowed an alarming number of times in quick succession before stepping outside; Mrs. Hudson joined Molly in sniffling softly; I stood with my hands clenched in my pockets until Mycroft pointedly escorted himself and the other two out of the room, refusing to meet my eyes. We'd all identified him, though.**

**Alone, I tried to gather my thoughts. It was impossible. There he lay, me and him together, what was there to do? To say to him?**

**In a petty attempt to distract myself, I groped in my pocket for my phone. I vaguely remember the ringing I'd heard after I was hit by the bicycle. I wondered perhaps it might been my phone ringing, but there were no missed calls, no texts. I checked the internet for any of release of news from the press about my Sherlock, the "fraud." Even though I knew it would upset me, I tapped one of the captions. My hand, however, had begun to shake and I mistakenly pressed the link beside it. Here it was:**** watch?v=v9m9SlB3ov4****.**

"_**You Light Up My Life"**_

_**So many nights I sit by my window**_

_**Waiting for someone to sing me his song**_

_**So many dreams I kept deep inside me**_

_**Alone in the dark but now you've come along**_

_**And you light up my life**_

_**You give me hope to carry on**_

_**You light up my days**_

_**And fill my nights with song**_

_**Rollin' at sea, adrift on the water**_

_**Could it be finally I'm turning for home?**_

_**And finally, a chance to say, "Hey, I love you"**_

_**Never again to be all alone**_

_**'Cause you, you light up my life**_

_**You give me hope to carry on**_

_**You light up my days**_

_**And fill my nights with song**_

**I sat my phone by Sherlock's head. It was all I could do not to drop it. My fingers brushed his hair, and it occurred to me that I would never get that chance. To say… "Hey, I love you." Where, now, was my hope to carry on. Where was my song? My Sherlock? For even though I could have touched him, I was all alone. My light was gone forever.**

**My vision blurred. I reached for Sherlock, hesitant at first. "Oh, Sherlock…" I whispered, cupping his white face in my trembling hands. I was startled to find it was still warm. As sobs wracked my body, I bent over him, kissing his still blood-damp hair. Then I bowed my head, forehead to forehead, touching him. My eyes squeezed shut, leaking tears. And I stayed like that, and cried, and cried.**

**So there, I've said it to the world now, and concerning what the papers have to say about Sherlock Holmes, "it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavoured to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and wisest man whom I have ever known." **

**Also, I do not think I shall be posting anymore. This will be my last entry to you all, because for me, my all and everything-**_**my light**_**-has ended.**

**John Watson**

Sherlock Holmes closed the tab on John's blog and shut Mycroft's laptop. He laced his fingers together thoughtfully. "Oh, John," he whispered, a touch of emotion barely audible. "I do love you, too."


End file.
